


walk away now

by chaoticautumn



Category: South Park
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, erics depressed and so am i, erics kinda ooc but im also one for self projecting, stans there but he doesnt say shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 05:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17861525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticautumn/pseuds/chaoticautumn
Summary: okay listen i found this wip in my files from like last year and i wanted to finish it. the ending,, sucks ass imo but honestly where i originally stopped writing was like, really close to the end but not a good place to actually stop so i just tacked on whatever i could think of





	walk away now

**Author's Note:**

> okay listen i found this wip in my files from like last year and i wanted to finish it. the ending,, sucks ass imo but honestly where i originally stopped writing was like, really close to the end but not a good place to actually stop so i just tacked on whatever i could think of

_“At least my mom’s not a used crackwhore who doesn’t love her fucking son!!”_

The two had been fighting over a comment Cartman had made on the Holocaust, and Kyle had obviously immediately bristled at it. The fight escalated quickly, and was one step away from getting physically violent before Kyle spat the venomous jab at Cartman’s mother, who thankfully wasn’t there to hear it. Stan and Kenny had been idling off to the side, ready to step in, and both of their eyes widened significantly at Kyle’s angry yell, glancing worriedly between Cartman and Kyle.

A wave of rage crashed over Cartman’s face, but then something changed in his demeanor. He snapped his mouth shut as his mismatched eyes glazed over and wordlessly stepped back, staring blankly down at Kyle. He quickly turned and stomped up to his room, the door slamming closed and making everyone wince.

The fury in Kyle’s eyes had dissipated as soon as the words left his mouth. He watched Cartman leave quietly, trying to think of something to say to take it back. Kyle stared at the spot where he could last see the brunette. He’d broken the unspoken rule between everyone in their town; don’t mention what Liane does in front of her or her son.

Loud thumps were drifting down the stairwell from Cartman’s room, and Kyle’s heart sank more with every noise. He jumped at the sudden touch on his shoulder and turned around to face whoever it was, already apprehensive.

Kenny halfway raised his arms in surrender, stepping away from the fiery ginger. “It’s just me, dude.” Kyle relaxed, but stiffened again as there was another crash from the room upstairs. Kenny glanced in the direction of the noise and turned back to Kyle. “You’re going to have to talk to him, you know.”

“I’m not risking my life to comfort _Cartman,_ Ken.” Kyle grimaced at the thought. The larger boy had tried to kill Kyle over trivial things before- if Kyle tried to approach him now, there was no way he’d walk away alive. “And if I did, what do I even say to that?” His question was accentuated by yet another angry thump.

Kenny nudged him in the direction of the staircase. “You can handle yourself if it really comes down to it.” His expression softened and he leaned closer to Kyle to mutter something in his ear. “Don’t be hard on him, dude. Cartman’s really not an emotionally stable person.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow at Kenny. As though he needed to be reminded Cartman was fucked up. Kyle glanced at Stan for any idea on what to do, but was met with an unhelpful shrug. He sighed in defeat and trudged up the stairs to Cartman’s door. It was eerily quiet now, and unease coiled in Kyle’s gut.

He stopped before Cartman’s door, taking a moment to compose himself and mull over what he should say. Words came naturally to Kyle, but now it seemed his speech ability had decided to stop working. Kyle eventually forced himself to move and knocked on the door. “Cartman?”

No response. Kyle slowly creaked the door open, praying to God Cartman wasn’t waiting to shoot him when he walked into the room.

Instead he found the boy curled up on his bed, his knees hugged close to his chest and his face hidden by his arms. His room was a disaster now, various books and old toys and even a lamp strewn across the floor like a tornado had ripped through it. Kyle glanced over at the walls curiously. They were covered in considerably large dents and chipped paint, and some marks along them looked like they’d been painted over.

Kyle tore his gaze from the walls and back to Cartman, who hadn’t acknowledged his presence yet. He carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, watching for any reaction, but didn’t get anything. He stayed silent for a few moments before deciding to talk. “Cartman, I-”

“What the fuck do you want?” Cartman interrupted him, partially muffled by his arms. His unusually cold voice was like a shot to Kyle’s heart and Kyle winced. He wasn’t really used to Cartman being that unfeeling when it came to talking to him. It was usually all smug insults or horrible jokes or angry yelling, not this.

“Jesus Christ, I just want to talk to you. You don’t need to be a fucking dick about it.” Kyle’s original anger sparked again, but died out when he saw Cartman slightly recoil from his harsh tone.

“Listen, dude, I didn’t…” Kyle hesitated, but forced his pride down. “I didn’t mean anything I said.”

Cartman gave a short, bitter laugh. “Right. And I’m not the town asshole.” He lifted his head so he could be clearly heard, but didn’t look at Kyle. “You don’t just say things and not mean them, Kyle. Don’t fucking lie.”

Kyle bristled at that, but managed to bite back the angry retort bubbling in his throat. He exhaled through his teeth, trying to think of a reply that wouldn’t end in a fight. “... I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” was Cartman’s immediate response. As it turns out, anything would end in a fight.

 _“Yes, I fucking am._ Why is it so hard for you to accept an apology?”

“Because it’s _you._ You don’t apologize to me, not unless you want something.”

“I don’t want anything from you. And that’s what you do.” Kyle hissed back, jabbing a finger into Cartman’s upper arm. It would’ve been more effective if he had access to Cartman’s chest, but it got his point across. Cartman flinched away from his touch, glancing at him for a second and looking away again. It was short, but Kyle could recognize the glimpse of fear in his bright blue and brown eyes. He stopped short and immediately pulled his hand away, eyebrows knotting together in concern.

“Cartman, are you… are you okay?” He quietly asked, completely unsure on why he asked or the outcome of asking.

Cartman turned away from Kyle, his face not in view. “I’m fine. Fuck off.”

“I’m not going to fuck off. What’s up with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that, not only have I been in a generally shitty mood lately, I’m reminded my mom’s the slut of the town and no one in town likes me.” Cartman muttered.

“That’s not… necessarily true.”

Cartman whirled to face him, fury sparking in his eyes, and Kyle drew back from him in surprise. “You fucking _know_ it is. Everyone knows it is. My mom’s the town whore, and I’m hated by everyone. We couldn’t even find out my own father because she’d fucked so many people! And to top it all off, I killed him before we found out he was even related to me. I killed my fucking dad, Kyle.” Cartman laughed darkly and his eyes glossed over with an unrecognizable mix of emotions as his mouth twisted into a bitter sneer. “No fucking wonder no one likes me.”

“You were 10 when you killed him. And you did it to get back at that ginger kid who wouldn’t pay you back. You didn’t know, dude,” Kyle said quietly. He had actually forgotten about the Scott Tenorman incident, but Cartman evidently kept it in the back of his mind.

“Oh yea, like being 10 and annoyed justifies the murder of a man and his wife and forced cannibalism.” Cartman scoffed. “I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“You didn’t even kill them yourself. You got them to go to some hicks farm and took their bodies after he shot them. And you aren’t hated, dude. There are people who care about you, they just suck at showing it.” Cartman grumbled something under his breath, but Kyle didn’t bother to ask what he said- he already knew Cartman wouldn’t repeat it. Kyle sighed and sat back on his hands, watching Cartman silently for a few moments.

“Why are you still here? Go back downstairs, or go home, or whatever Jews do in their free time. Just leave me the hell alone.”

Kyle was taken aback by how Cartman’s voice wavered. It was usually so strong and confident, but now it kind of sounded like…

“Cartman, are you _crying?”_

Cartman instantly tensed and tried to subtly wipe his face with a jacket sleeve. “What the hell are you talking about?” He attempted to laugh, but it sounded strained.

Kyle shifted uneasily. Cartman never cried in front of other people unless he wanted something. But all it really seemed he wanted at the moment was for Kyle to leave him alone, which wasn’t happening anytime soon now. “Why are you crying?”

“Shut the fuck up. None of this is any of your business, so get your big Jew nose out of it.” Cartman snapped, getting more defensive by the second. He hated being vulnerable in front of anyone, especially Kyle, and just wanted to be left alone. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was thankful Kyle hadn’t gone yet.

“Listen, I’m not going to rip on you for crying. People just have to do that sometimes. I just want to know why.” Kyle’s voice had taken on a soft, quiet tone that surprised both the boys. Cartman glanced momentarily at him in question but quickly broke the eye contact.

Cartman’s slumped in surrender as the prick of more tears stung his eyes. “I don’t fucking know anymore. I know you’re right about me and I fucking hate that you are, but I can’t change it or deny it because everyone knows it’s true. My emotions are just everywhere and I don’t know what to do about it and I don’t know why I feel like this and I… I don’t know. I- I can’t-” He started stumbling over his words and managed for force his mouth shut, becoming increasingly self conscious of Kyle’s gaze on him. “You don’t give a shit about any of this, do you? You-”

Cartman was cut off by Kyle’s arms firmly pulling him into a hug. The brunette’s natural reaction was to try to shove him away, but his attempts were weak and Kyle didn’t move an inch. He instead moved closer so it was more comfortable for the two to hug without both twisting their backs uncomfortably.

It was a few seconds before Cartman hesitantly hugged him back. His face twisted from one of surprise and embarrassment to one of pain and fear, and he pressed against Kyle’s shoulder, screwing his eyes shut. His hands gripped the material of Kyle’s jacket almost desperately and he let out a choked sob.

Kyle didn’t exactly know what he was doing when he hugged Cartman, and he sure as hell didn’t know what he was doing now. It was a spur of the moment action, and now the boy infamous for ruining Kyle’s life was crying into his shoulder. Kyle sighed and gave in, running his hand up and down the larger boys back in an attempt to sooth him. He hummed quietly as Cartman’s body shook with sobs, and it wasn’t long before Cartman stopped trembling, although he still clung to Kyle.

Kyle debated detangling himself from Cartman's arms, but decided against it. If Cartman wanted to let go, he would. He instead opted to try to speak.

“Do you really think I don’t care about you?” Kyle despised how gentle he sounded compared to his usually powerful voice.

Cartman heaved a deep, shuddering breath and shifted to lean against Kyle, who really didn’t expect it but complied anyway. “Why wouldn’t I? I hate you, you hate me- that’s just how it’s always been and probably always will be. Why _would_ you care about me?”

Kyle knew it was a stupid question, but the words had already left his mouth before he could stop himself. “Why do you think I hate you?”

Cartman moved back to stare at the redhead. “Are you fucking seriously? Have you been around for the past, like, decade? I’m the Jew-hating Nazi, the douchebag everyone laughs at, the fat kid who complains too much.” Cartman gestured at himself with a hand, then pointed at Kyle. “And you’re- you’re _you._ You’ve always gone against everything I’ve done and rose up to fight me even when I knocked you down. And to top it all off, you’re Jewish. It makes sense that you’d hate me.”

Kyle grimaced. Cartman was right about all of it. After everything he’d done to Kyle, and after everything Kyle had done to him, the two should hate each other. But despite it all, they always came back to each other. They were still friends after everything. It was like the boys clicked together almost perfectly but not at all at the same time.

Kyle shook his head. “I don’t… I don’t hate you, Cartman. I feel like I should loathe you for what you’ve done, for just being you, and I want to hate you. But I just don’t. I care about you for whatever reason, whether I like it or not.”

Cartman openly stared at Kyle, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock. Never did he think he would see the day when Kyle admitted he cared, yet here he was, openly admitting to it without prompting. But Cartman’s insecurities quickly took hold again.

“You’re just saying that. I know Kenny put you up to this. You don’t really care at fucking all, do you, Kyle?” Cartman hissed, his self consciousness quickly turning into anger and defensiveness.

Kyle glared back, unaffected by Cartman’s rage. “I’m not just saying that, fatass. All Kenny did was tell me to comfort you. He didn’t put me up to anything. He’s not like you,” the short tempered ginger snarled back.

 _“Don’t fucking lie to me, Kyle._ I know your Jewish game. You pretend to give a fuck about someone until they trust you then ruin their life by taking everything they have.”

“Oh, please. You’re the manipulative one out of all of us. Don’t try to pin the blame on me because you don’t know how to control your greed. Why can’t you just god damn accept that people care about you?”

 _“BECAUSE I’M FUCKING SCARED OF THAT.”_ Cartman yelled, then clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening. He shrank away from Kyle and curled back up into the ball Kyle had found him in. 

Kyle’s blaze of anger was stomped out by the sight of Cartman so distressed. He hesitated before deciding to break the uncomfortable silence. “What do you mean you’re scared of people caring about you?”

Cartman didn’t answer. Kyle sighed and reached out a hand to try to comfort him again, but Cartman flinched away from his touch like it bit him, and Kyle withdrew his hand. He didn’t know what to do at this point. Cartman didn’t want to be touched and Kyle had no ideas on what to say. So he quietly repeated his question. “What do you mean you’re scared of it?”

Cartman rolled his eyes and turned his head away from Kyle. “It means what I just said. Use that Jew brain of yours and figure it out.”

“Then why are you scared of someone caring about you?”

Cartman stayed silent for a few minutes, then finally spoke, his fingernails digging into his upper arms and leaving white marks. “Because every time someone cares about me, I start caring about them. And something always happens to them, something that I did, that makes them realize they shouldn’t care about me, and they leave. Every time I give a shit about someone, they just hurt me in return, even if they don’t realize it. I’m fucking done with it.”

Kyle quietly watched Cartman talk, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. It felt like… sympathy?

Cartman continued after a moment, his tone growing dark. “You don’t really care, anyway. You shouldn’t.”

“Dude, you told me like 15 minutes ago that I don’t just say things and not mean them. I do care about you, even if it’s against my own will sometimes. We’ve done too much together for me not to care.”

“Please don’t say that.” Cartman’s voice was a whisper, his shoulders up to cover his face from view.

Kyle winced at how vulnerable the larger boy sounded. None of this was natural for Cartman, he was usually so defensive and loud. This other side of him was so quiet and bitter and just _not Cartman_ it was unsettling. Kyle shook off his thoughts and attempted to reach for him again, and to his surprise Cartman didn’t move away, although he tensed under Kyle’s touch. Kyle gently pulled him into another hug, letting the brunette lean against his chest. Kyle hummed thoughtfully as he contemplated his next words, not knowing what would set Cartman off again or cause him to pile on more defenses.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Cartman muttered, tearing Kyle away from his thoughts.

Kyle paused. Why _was_ he doing this? For Cartman, no less. Kyle glanced down at the boy against him, and his expression softened. Cartman desperately needed someone to talk to- that much was obvious, even if he’d never admit it. He was scared of caring for people. He’d probably been hurt by it one too many times, and didn’t want to try again. But Kyle wanted him to know not everyone he’d come across would hurt him, even if Kyle had been one of those people who had.

He was yanked from his thoughts again by Cartman’s uneasy shifting and sighed. “I’m doing this because you need it, dude. I care about you, and seeing you like this… it’s not okay. You’re Eric Cartman, man. You’re a loud, annoying, anti-semitic, manipulative asshole.” Kyle could feel Cartman shrink further into himself as Kyle listed off descriptors, but he continued before Cartman could say anything. “But you’re also my friend, no matter how much we fight to deny it.”

“Please stop saying you care about me.” Cartman gripped his arms tightly, his fingernails digging into the skin. “I already know it’s not true, and repeating yourself won’t change it.”

Kyle gently loosened Cartman’s hold before he could draw blood and held the brunette’s hands in one of his own in Cartman’s lap to keep him from tearing into his upper arms. “Listen, I don’t really understand why I do either. But I know it’s true, despite how much I deny it or wish it wasn’t.”

Cartman didn’t respond. His bright blue and brown eyes were wide, focused solely on his hands in Kyle’s.

Kyle watched him quietly for a few more moments, then moved to face Cartman, keeping his hand around the larger boy’s hands and placing his other hand on Cartman’s shoulder. Cartman jumped at the sudden movement and his eyes finally focused on Kyle’s freckled face in front of him before looking away.

“Hey.” Cartman didn’t move. “Look at me,” Kyle murmured gently. Cartman hesitantly met his green gaze, panic sparking deep in his own. “I care about you, okay? Get that through your thick fucking skull. You’ve put me through a lot and I wish I didn’t care about you like I do. But it’d be pointless for me to leave you, even if I didn’t care about you. You’d just go on a rampage because no one would be brave enough to stop you. I’d have to come back to keep you from nuking the country.”

Cartman’s eyes darted around Kyle’s face, searching for any sign of dishonesty, but he didn’t find anything indicating the redhead was lying. Finally, he managed to answer. “So you’re just doing this to keep me from killing a bunch of people.”

“You aren’t listening to me. _I care about you._ I don’t like seeing you like this. As obnoxious as you are, I like the normal you better.” 

Cartman wavered for a moment, but his broken voice muttered one word in response. “Stop.”

“No.” Kyle slid his hand from Cartman’s shoulder and rested it on top of the hands in Cartman’s lap, ignoring the faint flinch. “Just listen to me, dude. I. Care. About. You. You deserve people who care about you. Doesn’t matter if you think you deserve it or not. I know we’ve hurt each other, much more than I’d ever like to admit, but I haven’t left you, and I don’t plan on doing that.”

Cartman blinked down at him, an unreadable look twisting across his face. “Are… Are you sure?”

“Yes. Have you heard anything I’ve been saying for like 20 minutes?” Kyle’s lips quirked upwards in a soft smile. “Yes, I’m sure, Cartman. Christ.”

Cartman mirrored Kyle’s smile, expression lighting up in what Kyle could only describe as sheepish. “I, uh. I care about you too,” he murmured, gaze dropping to Kyle’s hands covering his.

Kyle’s smile grew wider. “That’s okay.” He glanced around the destroyed room before looking back at Cartman. “Do you think Stan and Ken are still here?”

Cartman snorted a laugh. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Marsh was standing outside my door, waiting to see if you were alive. With the shit that went down, I’m pretty sure he’s already filed a murder report.”

Kyle grinned at him and shrugged. “Won’t be much of a case if I show up to the police station alive.” He looked around again. “Dude, do you want help with your room?”

Cartman looked up as though he’d completely forgotten he’d practically ripped his room apart. “Oh, uh. Nah, dude, it’s okay.”

Kyle shrugged again and stood up, reluctantly pulling his hands from Cartman. “Your loss, fatass. Just let me know if you need shit.”

Cartman nodded and went silent, thinking to himself for a few seconds before catching Kyle’s wrist. “Hey, um- Kyle, can you- not tell anyone what happened?”

Kyle blinked at him, confusion flicking across his face before realization kicked in. He grinned back at Cartman and nodded. “Sure, Cartman.”


End file.
